Like a second shadow
by xXSakura-Hime-SamaXx
Summary: (Slight AU) She may have thought him dead and gone, but the truth was, he couldn't leave her if he tried. Not that he wanted to. Well...not now anyway.


She may have thought him dead and gone, but the truth was, he couldn't leave her if he tried.

Not that he wanted to, well, _now_ anyway.

For years he has trailed after the pink haired woman, getting over the bitterness and anger he felt in the beginning of their 'acquaintanceship'. For the first year of being tied to her soul, unable to communicate with anyone at all, he'd raged.

_Raged_, _yelled_, and tried _everything_ in his power to punish the oblivious and innocent woman.

Nothing he did had any effect on her though.

No matter how many punches he threw, no matter how many curses he tried to send her way- nothing ever happened.

He was stuck.

_Tied_ to her.

And she didn't even know it.

As they tend to do, years rolled by, each one calming him a little more as he grudgingly watched her bloom into womanhood. No longer was she a teen, no, now she was a striking and powerful adult who made even the most powerful men flinch away.

Her anger was legendary, and with each instance he saw it, Madara found himself silently thankful she wasn't aware of him.

But as powerful and happy as she seemed on the outside, Madara knew better.

He himself had once felt that same loneliness, the kind that chilled you to the bone no matter how many people were around.

And it had everything to do with the way her team seemed to splinter off and disappear at any given time.

He watched as she held herself together with glue and tape, found himself sympathising with every envious look she shot her fellow Konoha nin.

Hadn't he too felt that way once? Hadn't he too been distanced and driven away- albeit unknowingly in her situation.

She had no Hashirama though, she had no Izuna or clan to give her purpose.

Her 'family' were gone, out on their own adventures as she wilted under the harsh Konoha sun.

He didn't know how many more of her disappointed glances he could take, how many more of her shattered sobs he could listen to whenever her teammates found something that demanded their attention more than her.

But he _couldn't_ comfort her.

He was dead.

So, after years of watching and waiting, of building up his strength and testing things.

Madara plotted.

He plotted, and he struck.

Through pure chance, he found that he could influence people of weak will- if only for a short time. But no matter how short it was, it was all he needed.

One suggestion could go a long way.

Flowers came to her door one day, and as pleasantly surprised as _she_ seemed, Madara was furious.

_He_ was the one attempting to help her, and he wouldn't allow anyone else to interfere. He'd staked a claim on the woman, and as shocking as it was for him to realize it, he didn't overthink it.

Overthinking led to mistakes.

And even the smallest mistake could ruin his plans.

_No flowers came to her door again after he was finished with the man who tried to court her._

Uchiha it seemed, were possessive of what they deemed their own.

_Dead or otherwise._

Another year passed, and the pink haired woman seemed to be doing better.

No longer was she harassed at work by perverted patients.

No longer was she sent on trivial missions that were way below her pay grade.

No longer was she _lonely_.

Because it seemed that in the dead of night, during her deepest dreams, arms held her close.

Soft words were whispered to her, dancing along her skin teasingly.

And while she knew it to be a dream, the warm lips seeming to shyly graze her own still drew a love struck sigh from her.

Madara loved every minute of it.

Every _second_.

And while he may only be able to love her like this, like a shadow haunting her every step, he was content.

_Happy._

So when Naruto decided to finally make a move, no one was more shocked than Madara when his fist actually made contact with the hosts face.

_No one_ was more shocked than Madara when the brat blinked stupidly around, his eyes flashing as blue and red met, if only for a fraction of a second.

Just a fraction of a second, one glimpse of his tall form looming behind the pinkette protectively was all it took for the brat to start screaming in rage.

Rage Madara fed off with a grin, rage that made what little presence he had so much more solid.

So much more _alive_.

'_Yes…'_ Madara thought to himself, his eyes glinting as a little of the Kyuubi's chakra seemed to flow into his body, his dead heart giving one stuttering beat before going silent again. _'My plans are far from over it seems.'_

_He could wait, he could be patient and bide his time._

His arms came to wrap around the oblivious Sakura as she watched her friend, his chin resting on the top of her head contently as another rage filled cry came from the boy, obviously having glimpsed him again.

_Yes, he would wait._

_And when he was back again?_

His arms tightened around the woman, a small shiver coming from her as a chill seemed to crawl up her spine.

_He would take what was his, what had always been his._

_After all, cherry blossoms were said to grow so much more vibrant in a field of blood._

_And no one was more equipped to provide that for her than him._


End file.
